


Mew York City

by dirkygoodness



Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber
Genre: Angst, College of Fine Arts, Come on its a fine arts school, Crimes & Criminals, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Is Gay, Everyone is either psychic or gay, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Made up schools, Organized Crime, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Recreational Drug Use, SO, Slow Burn, zootopia au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-09-24 08:12:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9712856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirkygoodness/pseuds/dirkygoodness
Summary: He was willing to bear with the shitty house if it meant being independent. Living with Uncle Bustopher, he’d never really wanted for anything. Mistoffelees wanted to at least try to live on his own--he was an adult now, after all.--------------------------------------Mistoffelees just moved out, is going to college for dance, just went to a job interview - everything seems to be looking good for him. But then he meets who he's supposed to be a backup dancer for, and things start going to shit in rapid succession.Especially his 'love life'.





	1. Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

> shout out and thanks to circumlocute for the beta! Their stuff isn't live yet, but it will be soon, so I highly recommend checking them out!!!
> 
> long overdue CATS fic no one asked for to the theme of Zootopia - what could go wrong?
> 
>  
> 
> Things to look out for: Plato/Vic one night stand, punk Jemima, mod boss Macavity, shitty criminals Rump and Jerrie, literally every CATS character getting some kind of cameo, weed but the cool kids call it 'catnip', crude humor, spicy conflict for all ages, actual plot?

“Well, it’s something.” Victoria said skeptically, rubbing the back of her neck as she took in Mistoffelees new home. He’d admit it, it wasn’t very attractive. No, scratch that, it sucked. It was in the Junkyard District--the name was apt--and his particular home was a major step down from everything he was used to.

It was downright horrible; about the size of a mobile home, but it was made out of grey brick that was faded and covered with creeper vines near the back. Definitely nothing to call home to mother about, so to speak.

But he was willing to bear with the shitty house if it meant being independent. Living with Uncle Bustopher, he’d never really wanted for anything. Mistoffelees wanted to at least try to live on his own--he was an adult now, after all.

So when Victoria and Alonzo had offered to pay for his college he’d initially declined. But, with a bit of thinking over it he’d realized that _probably_ wasn’t the best plan. Sure, college would wait for him, but he wasn’t getting any younger and he wasn’t considered one of the most patient people out there.

So. He was resigning himself to letting them pay for his college fund. But he was sure as hell going to get a house and food and all that with his own money, thank you very much. Or, really, Mistoffelees’ uncle’s money that he’d gotten for turning eighteen last month--but still.

There was enough there to live off of for a year if he stretched it right. He probably could have gotten more from his uncle, but again, that felt cheap to him. He was going to work for as much as he could before he’d ask for help.

“Yeah.” Mistoffelees said, propping the box in his arms against his hip, looking up at his house. It was small compared to where he’d been living--by a lot. It had two floors; ground and the basement level. One tiny bathroom just big enough for the smallest of showers, kitchen, living room, and bedroom.

The basement wasn’t finished and according to his landlord, it felt like a sauna when it was sunny and flooded when it rained. He scowled. The house wasn’t to his standards (or really probably that of the city’s) but it was all he could afford and he wasn’t about to admit that this was the best he could do. Mistoffelees turned to Victoria, giving her a crooked smile as he let out a laugh.

“At least it’s not a shoe.” He said, smile widening when she snorted and adjusted the box in her hands.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s true. You just live in an old-ass brick tunnel.” Victoria shot back, and Mistoffelees gasped, one hand to his chest in mock-pain.

“I’m offended that you could insult my _house_ like that.” Mistoffelees sighed dramatically, batting his eyelashes for effect. Victoria laughed again, just about to respond when Alonzo jumped down from the moving truck behind them with a box of his own, accidentally smacking Mistoffelees’ head with it.

Mistoffelees shot him a look, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand. Alonzo didn’t seem to notice, so Mistoffelees let it drop before tilting his head to gesture towards the house.

“Wanna see inside?” He asked them, watching with a slight smile as Alonzo perked up.

“Hell yeah!” Alonzo was grinning in excitement, glancing over at Victoria expectantly.

Mistoffelees led them to the door, fishing the keys out of his pocket. He carefully balanced the box on his hip, unlocking the door and moving out of the way to let his siblings inside. Victoria whistled, setting her box down in the middle of the room as she craned her neck to get a good look. Alonzo dropped his box close to hers, although not as gently, and ran off through the doorway to the kitchen.

Mistoffelees rolled his eyes at him, closing the door with the heel of his foot. He placed the box down on the living room floor as well, and stretched his arms out in front of himself. Even though it _did_ resemble some kind of trailer home or storage shed, the inside didn’t look that bad.

The walls were bare, painted a simple white, the living room floor carpeted in a light brown shade that felt about as soft as a dish sponge. There were a few questionable stains here and there, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t manage to get out with a little work.

The bedroom was covered in the same brown carpet as the living room, and the kitchen and bathroom had matching sky blue tiling - though the walls there, too, were bare and painted white. The basement looked like something out of a horror movie, dimly lit and depressing when the light was actually working.

Mistoffelees was pretty sure the light was just dead, but if it was broken he wasn’t going to be very happy. He _just_ moved in. Or, really, was just _now_ moving in, really. He sighed. They still had all the furniture to bring inside and he was already tired. If he didn’t think he’d drop something he’d just magic them all inside. But he didn’t feel like breaking his brand new tv on accident.

He snapped out of his thoughts as Victoria touched him lightly on the arm, casting a quick glance at him before looking back at the room.

“You still sure about this, Misto? There’s no shame in backing out.” Victoria said, voice quiet and wringing her hands together.

Mistoffelees pursed his lips, giving her a sour look. When he didn’t answer right away, she turned to look at him, chuckling at him when she did.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re right, I need to just trust you. It’s just… it feels weird, you know? Without you living with us?”

“I know. Like when Alonzo left.” Mistoffelees smiled, his head tilting as he looked at the ground. He hadn’t really let himself think about it, living alone, that much. It felt weird, just like Victoria said. Abnormal. Don’t get him wrong, Mistoffelees loved being alone and independent, but he was going to miss having his siblings there in the house with him.

From here on out his routine was all him, new and, hopefully, improved. Mistoffelees shook himself out of that line of thought. He’d still be able to see them! They were only twenty minutes away if he needed them, and he doubted he would. Just then Alonzo came skipping into the living room, flashing the both of them a wide grin. Mistoffelees fought the urge to roll his eyes.

“Alright, I mean, it’s definitely a step down. Or, like, _steps_ down. But it’s not horrible.” Alonzo let out a throaty laugh, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Come on, we need to get some of the bigger stuff. We’re wasting the day here!”

“Oh lord,” Victoria said, making a disgusted face, “You sound just like Bustopher.” Alonzo snorted as he opened the door and ducked outside. Mistoffelees just stared at Victoria silently, and she huffed at him.

“Well, he does.”

“If Uncle Bustopher was a twenty three year old hyperactive cop.” Mistoffelees scoffed, crossing his arms. Honestly, the two were _totally_ different. Uncle Bustopher was stoic and controlled, high class. He knew what he was talking about. Alonzo, on the other hand?

He was like taking care of an oversized toddler. A toddler hyped up on sugar. Honestly, for Alonzo being the only one that was biologically Bustopher’s offspring, he was the most different from him.

A sudden shout from outside had Mistoffelees and Victoria jumping, their fur standing up on end. They shot each other a look, before rushing outside again. Mistoffelees blinked in confusion at the sight before him.

There were two other cats in the back of the moving van that Mistoffelees had never seen before. Alonzo had his arms crossed, glowering at the both of them in a way that actually almost made Mistoffelees believe he was the kind of cop he boasted to be. Almost.

“Who the hell are you?” Alonzo growled, and the two in the truck looked at each other before slowly turning back to Alonzo with wide, nervous grins on their faces.

“We’re, uh, we’re -”

“- your neighbors!” They spoke, the girl finishing up the sentence. The boy nodded frantically. “Well, not your _neighbors_ really, we live down the block, see? We live on the same block.”

“Yeah, and it’s been, uh, a really, _really_ long time since anyone moved in! We were curious.” The man spoke again, before pushing his friend? Partner? Out of the moving van before himself. He then gave an extravagant bow, the girl quickly following suit.

“Mungojerrie at your service, sir!”

“And I’m Rumpleteazer!” She added, grinning as she stood back up with a flourish. Alonzo squinted at them, mouth twisting in an odd shape before he grunted.

“Uh - huh. Right.” He shoved a hand into his pocket, pulling out his wallet a moment later. Mistoffelees smirked as Alonzo flashed them his badge, tucked in the front of his wallet for handy keeping.

“MYPD, how about you just get away from the moving truck and _move_ along, okay?” The two’s faces paled considerably, and they chuckled nervously.

“Uh, yeah, no problem... officer.” Rumpleteazer said, nodding frantically as she grabbed Mungojerrie’s arm and pulled him backwards. “We weren’t meaning any harm!”

“And we didn’t do anything either, so we’ll just be on our way!” Mungojerrie added, before the both of them turned on their heels and ran off away from Mistoffelees’ house. They were silent for a moment, before Victoria whistled, laughing as she moved to stand beside Alonzo. Mistoffelees trailed behind her.

“Well whaddaya know, big brother’s got our back after all.” Victoria hooked her arm in Alonzo’s, grinning wickedly up at him. Mistoffelees matched her expression, grinning from ear to ear as he moved to take Alonzo’s other arm.

“I feel so safe and protected.” Mistoffelees said, nodding as Victoria spoke again.

“That was so frightening, I could just -”

“- Faint!” And with that they both went limp, putting their full weight on Alonzo’s arms, making him give a cry of panic before letting out a startled laugh.

“Oh my god, guys, no.” The three of them laughed, Alonzo only able to dislodge Mistoffelees for a moment before he latched back on. They stayed like that until Alonzo managed to drag them to the lip of the moving truck and pull himself up without them.

It took them about four hours to get everything inside, and then another two as they unpacked as many useful items as they could for the kitchen and living room. Mistoffelees was startled to find his watch and a few of the finer silvers of his silverware missing, and couldn’t seem to figure out where he’d left them.

Oh well, though. That’d be a problem for another day. After saying goodbye to Victoria and Alonzo, he inflated his air mattress, eyes drooping by the time he was done. With only a sheet and one of the pillows he’d lazily grabbed, Mistoffelees drops like a log and is asleep before his head hits the pillow.


	2. Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mistoffelees' phone hates him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to circumlocute for the beta again!

A loud, incessant beeping from the nightstand eventually woke Mistoffelees from his sleep. He groaned, cracking his eyes open tiredly. He wasn’t met with the dim light of very early morning as he was expecting, but instead, light streamed in through his window and he blinked in confusion.   
  
Wasn’t he supposed to be awake…? Mistoffelees sat upright with a gasp, fumbling to throw his covers off of himself frantically. He only managed to get himself more tangled in the sheets, tumbling over the side of the bed and landing with a heavy thud. Mistoffelees squirmed for a while on the floor, finally managing to untangle himself enough to grab his phone as he stood up. He answered it without even looking to see who it was, sprinting towards the bathroom. 

“Mistoffelees? Where  _ are  _ you? Classes started, like, half an hour ago?” Victoria’s voice chimed in from the other side, worried and a little strained, and Mistoffelees cursed as he turned the faucet on.

“My - my alarm! It didn’t go off, and I don’t have a ride. Oh my god, I’m so late.” Mistoffelees fumbled with his toothbrush, dropping it into the sink, and he cursed again as he fished it out and put toothpaste on it. He heard laughter from over the phone, somewhere in the background, before Victoria spoke up again - a little louder this time.

“Ah, sheesh, Misto. I’m sorry! I don’t know how to help. ...No, actually, wait. Hold on, I have an idea -” Victoria went quiet as Mistoffelees brought the toothbrush to his mouth, propping the phone between his shoulder and cheek as he turned around and went back into his bedroom.   
  
He made a beeline for the dresser, fishing out the first shirt his hands landed on - a loose fitting, blue t-shirt that he doesn’t actually remember owning, but it’s not really like he’s got time to pick his clothes exactly. He _ is  _ in a rush. Mistoffelees managed to pull out a pair of pants the same time Victoria’s voice came back over the phone. 

“It’s going to be about twenty-five minutes, but right now Jem’s between classes and she says she can come get you!” Victoria was a lifesaver, so to speak, and Mistoffelees made a mental note to do something to thank her later. But now he just made a sound of affirmation, turning back around and going into the bathroom to rinse his mouth out.   
  
“Alright, okay, she’s leaving right now. Make sure you’re ready when she gets there!”  
  
“Trust me,” Mistoffelees huffed, putting his toothbrush back in its rightful place, “I will be. See you there, Vic.”   
  
“See you Misto! Stay safe!” Victoria hummed out, hanging up after, leaving Mistoffelees alone to his stress. He set the phone down on the sink, pulling off his night shirt to replace it with the t-shirt he grabbed from his dresser, and almost fell over pulling on his pants, managing to catch himself at the last minute. 

Mistoffelees paused, glancing at himself in the mirror. Okay, he looked ruffled. His headfur was tangled and so fluffed up it looked like he’d just spent an hour rolling around on the ground. He made a face at himself, combing through it with his fingers, wincing as they caught on knots.   
  
Finally, he gave up with a sigh, grabbing his actual comb from the medicine cabinet and putting it into his pocket. He could take care of that when he was in the car, he still needed to get stuff for school. 

Mistoffelees dashed into the living room, and he grabbed his bag from the end of the couch. He unzipped it with little finesse, looking inside. There were his dance shoes, his school books, but - his clothes weren’t in there.  _ Shit _ . Where’d he leave them last? Mistoffelees turned on his heel, eyes scanning all the surfaces in the room. Wait. He’d washed them last night. The  _ dryer _ . 

Mistoffelees rushed down to the basement, flicking the light switch. He paused though, when the light didn’t turn back on. _Seriously?_ He groaned, glaring at the fixture for a moment before he pushed out towards the light with his magic, his hands moving in a flourish and the light flickered back to life.   
  
Mistoffelees smirked, before going back on his task - he got to work fast, digging through the dryer for his clothes. Finally, after what felt like forever, he managed to get his needed clothes. By the time he got back to the living room it must have been already a few minutes since Victoria had called, and he stuffed his clothes haphazardly into his bag before zipping it up.

“Okay,” Mistoffelees said to himself, taking stock of everything around him. He snapped his fingers, going back into the bathroom and grabbing his phone from the room. He checked the time again, biting his lip. He didn’t actually have any idea why his alarm hadn’t gone off, Mistoffelees had been sure he’d made sure it was set before he’d gone to bed.   
  
Ugh. This was _ just  _ his luck. He wasn’t even more than a  _ month _ into his classes and he was already missing it. Hopefully since he was a freshman and it was his first and hopefully  _ only  _ time being late his teacher would be kind enough to overlook it. 

Thankfully, the first class he had was a lecture based class - about what dancers should do to keep their bodies healthy as well as their minds, and all of that sort of stuff - and he shared it with Victoria. She’d had to skip half the class last year because of weird scheduling issues so she was making it up this year.   
  
He didn’t doubt she’d be able to catch him up on everything he’d missed for future assignments or tests. Mistoffelees pocketed his phone, putting his bag over his shoulders as he moved outside, locking the door behind himself with the keyring attached to his bookbag. 

He jumped when he heard a whistle from behind, and would have been frightened if he didn’t already have a sneaking suspicion of who it was. Mistoffelees rolled his eyes, turning to see Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer leaning against an old brick building across the street. They were grinning over at him. Mungojerrie had the audacity to wave. 

Mistoffelees huffed as he moved down to stand beside the road to wait for Jemima, ignoring the twins. Ever since first meeting them when he’d moved in a few months, they’d been an ever present, annoying occurance in his life.   
  
It started out with them just greeting him, then it slowly spiraled into conversations and joking - eventually it became that the two of them would be waiting for him whenever he left the house. 

It wasn’t anything that Mistoffelees couldn’t handle, and if it ever actually became a problem he _did_ have an older brother who just so happened to be a police officer. Any time Alonzo was around they quickly made themselves scarce, too, so it wouldn’t take much to run them off if necessary.   
  
But he didn’t think he’d need to. Despite his early worries about the two of them, they weren’t actually all that bad. They were just really friendly, bored, and sometimes tried to pick his pockets. 

Okay, so that last one was a  _ little  _ more serious - but they’d never succeeded. At this point it was more of a joke than anything. Mistoffelees shot them a glance as Rumpleteazer gave a dramatic cry, pushing herself up and off of the wall to walk towards him.   
  
“Aww, c’mon, Mr. M! We don’t mean no harm.” She chirped. Mungojerrie moved to follow her over the road as well.  
  
“Isn’t that what you two live for?” Mistoffelees shot back, cocking an eyebrow in their direction as he adjusted his bag’s shoulder strap. Rumpleteazer let out a howling laugh, snorting as she sidled up to Mistoffelees.   
  
He gave her a withering look, taking a step away from her. Usually he’d try to be more _ hospitable _ , but he wasn’t in the mood right now. Being half asleep and panicked tended to lessen your level of patience.      
  
“You fuckin’ know it!” Mungojerrie laughed as he came to a stop a little bit to the left of his sister.  
  
“As much as I’d  _ love  _ to have a nice, long chat with you two...I’m running a little late.” Mistoffelees cut in, voice dry, before either of them started talking again. Rumpleteazer leaned over and rested her arm on Mungojerrie’s shoulder, though it was a bit of a task as she was several inches shorter than him.

“Yeah, we can see that! Your usual ride came by and waited for like, ten minutes before leaving. Guess she had better things to do.” Mungojerrie smirked, pushing his sister off of himself. He draped his own arm over her shoulder, resting his head in the crook of her neck.

Mistoffelees frowned, suddenly guilty. He worried the hem of his shirt, biting his lip. Mistoffelees can’t believe he made Electra wait for him while he slept. _And_ for not having any means to apologize until he got to the school. He’d make sure he actually woke up next time - Mistoffelees didn’t want to make her wait again.   
  
Beside him, Rumpleteazer opened her mouth to say something but she was interrupted by a car pulling up in front of them. Saved by the bell. Jemima rolled down the window, waving at Mistoffelees as she did.

“Hi, Misto!” Jemima said, blinking over at Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer - who’d detangled themselves and were looking at her in confusion (she’d never picked him up before) - cocking her head. “Who’re your friends?” 

Mistoffelees looked at them skeptically and made a thoughtful  _ hmm _ sound... He wasn’t really sure if he’d call them  __ friends.   
  
“They’re…neighbors, of a sort.” He said, and resisted a smile as Rumpleteazer mimed being shot in the chest, going limp and dropping hard against Mungojerrie’s chest. 

“Man down, man down!” Mungojerrie cried, looking around melodramatically. Mistoffelees snorted, going over to Jemima’s car and pulling the door open. When he was situated, he slammed it shut, giving Jemima a bemused look.   
  
“Thanks for picking me up.”   
  
“Oh, no worries! It was no problem! I needed to get out of there.” She said, pulling away from his house - Mistoffelees could still see Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer faking their deaths in the rear view mirror. As soon as they were out of his line of sight he quickly buckled up. “I’ve been cooped up on campus for  _ days! _ ”

“How come?” Mistoffelees asked halfheartedly, fishing his comb out of his pocket and flexing, halfway off of his seat trying to get it. Jemima sighed, and Mistoffelees flipped down the sun visor, looking in the mirror at himself as soon as he’d managed to get the comb.

“Oh, I was practicing for my performance - I’ve got this really big part in a play we’re doing - not sure if I told you, except the choreography is ridiculous. I’ve been having Victoria and some of the other dancers help me out in their spare time, and when I’m not doing that I’m practicing my lines.” Jemima reached over for the radio, but stopped herself just as her fingers touched the dial. He only really saw through the corner of his eye, focused entirely on getting his headfur to at least look  _ somewhat  _ presentable. 

“Do you mind...?” Jemima glanced at him, her brows knitting together as she asked. Mistoffelees shrugged.

“No, it’s fine. Go ahead.” Mistoffelees still didn’t look good, but it was better than nothing. He doubted he’d be able to get himself looking really, truly correct without at least thirty minutes of work. Jemima giggled, turning the radio on and up enough to be just verging on too loud. Loud punk-rock roared from the speakers, and Jemima nodded her head along to it. 

Mistoffelees couldn’t help but smile even as a migraine was blooming. Her’s was honestly one of the most interesting personalities he’d ever seen. Jemima, sweet and innocent, with one of the gentlest voices he’d ever heard was the punkest person he’d ever met.   
  
Jemima wore a spiked collar, fingerless gloves, and a leather jacket - with spiked shoulders on occasion, which made more than a little sense judging by her music taste. It was the kind of stuff that would have made Uncle Bustopher have an aneurysm. And yet she drove out to get Mistoffelees to school - and they’d only met twice before, if he remembered correctly. The first time had been at a party after Victoria had needed a ride.   
  
Victoria and Jemima had just met and had been dancing all night. The second time they’d met had been his first day at school, she’d given him a brief tour of the layout while Victoria finished up her classes. Mistoffelees shoved his comb back into his pocket, giving up entirely on salvaging his look - instead he pulled out his phone and sent Victoria a quick text message to let her know they were on their way. 

“Oh my god, by the way, have you heard?   _The_ Rum Tum Tugger is in town doing a show! I’m not sure how long he’s going to be here, but I _heard_ they're looking for backup dancers. Apparently this area is prime real estate for that.” Jemima cut him out of his reverie, grinning as she practically vibrated in her seat with excitement. Mistoffelees frowned, raising an eyebrow as he turned to her.

“Who?”

“Oh my  _ god!  _ You don’t know who Rum Tum Tugger is?” Jemima shot him a look of horror. Mistoffelees shrugged and smiled weakly.  


“No. Should I?”   
  
“Of  _ course! _ He’s really popular? Everyone is going to his concerts. He was in town a few months ago for a performance during his tour...I guess he liked it enough to stay around to recruit.” She gave a dreamy sigh, “I wanted to go but I didn’t have enough money to spare for the concert. Gosh, I’d love to meet him. Not really my normal music taste, y’know, but he’s good enough it’s worth it. I’ll play you one of his songs sometime, you’ve got to hear it.” 

Jemima was practically jumping up and down in her seat now, and Mistoffelees’ smile turned somewhat apprehensive. He’d never really been into Jemima’s music, and especially not the kind of stuff that’s popular with crowds. Alonzo had on many occasions tried to “educate” him on what “good” music was, but he just never got into it.   
  
Mistoffelees enjoyed classical music, particularly waltzes and jazz. Though that kind of worked out, considering he was doing ballet. He rubbed his shirt, pushing the wrinkles out of it as he laughed. 

“Ah, I don’t know. I’m not really into that kind of thing.” He said, looking out the window. It still surprised him just how busy Mew York City was - even early in the morning you could see hundreds of people about, going about their lives. 

“Still, you never know! I’m not really into rap and classic rock, but he’s still really great.” Jemima said, as she turned into the campus. Mistoffelees nervously pulled on a loose string on his bag. It wasn’t that he was worried, really - he just didn’t want to know what it felt like to go to class late.   
  
Especially a class that had so many people. Though it wasn’t as packed as some of his other classes, there were still enough people for Mistoffelees’ anxiety to spike at the thought of it. When the car came to a stop, Jemima turned it off and unbuckled - the door halfway open - before Mistoffelees had even unbuckled. He turned to her, looking up at her through the door. 

“Thanks for the ride.”  
  
“Of course! It’s no problem, glad to help! I’m going to go, bathroom break - but good luck with your classes.”  
  
“Yeah, thanks.” Mistoffelees smiled at her before pushing the door open and exiting her car, shutting the door just as she locked it. He waved at her as she ran off towards the opposite building, and only then did Mistoffelees realize she’d parked in front of Mistoffelees’ building instead of her own so he wouldn’t be later.   
  
He couldn’t help but smile as he moved towards the doors. Jemima was one of the more nicer people he’d ever met. He took a deep, long breath, steeling himself just long enough to open the doors, stepping inside. 


End file.
